Bringing him home

Martijn's bird tells all. Drawn today at the azM (hospital)

There was no surgery today. After a very difficult series of meetings with a series of our doctors - from our trusted oncological surgeon, Kristien Keymeulen, M.D., to the urologist, Dr. Stijns, M.D., to our dear general practitioner, Maurice Bom, M.D., and finally to the previously unknown medical oncologist, we were given a grim prognosis. The cancer has spread too rapidly and widely to treat in any way. 

The tumors threaten kidney, bladder and liver. Chemotherapy requires a relatively healthy person and two functioning kidneys. Martijn is not in shape to undergo such a procedure. The proposed  kidney 'puncture' and drain could have caused much discomfort for too little long-term gain - or worse. 

We are planning to live together as best as we can the rest of our remaining time at home. If that is possible. Tomorrow Dr. Bom will come to discuss the plan. It will not be easy - one tumor already is externally protruding and could rupture at any time. I'm so sorry to say no optimistic words at present. I am telling in this blog the same grim reality we face. We cried a lot today. You understand, I'm sure. We laughed, we talked about people we love, trips we've taken and in general a love we believe transcends space and time. I agonize over Martijn not having unnecessary pain and know that we will discuss this and plan for it. I equally agonize over keeping my grace, even now my tummy is in a huge knot and I feel ill.

But beyond it, beyond it all, we face this inevitable conclusion surrounded by radiant light and love. We feel your support over time and space. We are so grateful for this strange, virtual community and what it brings, as though it is as tangible as a sip of water to quench thirst. We hope you can truly understand and appreciate what your connection to us means.

Thanks to the discerning ear of my dear friend, Dr. David Meyers, who with wife, Roberta, was with us a few short weeks ago, I learned of Irish poet, philosopher and scholar, John O'Donohue, who died peacefully in his sleep at age 52 this past January. O'Donohue was interviewed shortly before his untimely death on a wonderful program, Speaking of Faith, hosted by Krista Tippett, from American Public Media, a weekly conversation about belief, meaning, ethics, and ideas.  The program and this poet couldn't have entered my life at more poignant moment. Here is "A Blessing for Death" from John O'Donohue's book Anam Cara, meaning 'soul friend'.

A Blessing for Death

I pray that you will have the blessing of being consoled and

sure about your own death.

May you know in your soul that there is no need to be afraid.

When you time comes, may you be given every blessing 

and shelter that you need. 

May there be a beautiful welcome for you in the home that

you are going to.

You are not going somewhere strange. You are going back to

the home that you never left.

May you have a wonderful urgency to live your life to the 

full.

May you live compassionately and creatively and transfigure

everything this is negative within you and about you.

When you come to die may it be after a long life.

May you be peaceful and happy and in the presence of those who really care for you.

May your going be sheltered and your welcome assured.

May your soul smile in the embrace of your anam cara.